


Arm Candy (Not So Sweet)

by MidwestChopper



Series: Hollywood Circles AU [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Arm candy, Hollywood AU, Kept Boyfriend, Kind of a breakup fic, M/M, angsty, escorting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 21:26:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2040804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidwestChopper/pseuds/MidwestChopper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joel had this thing about "business" parties. Ray was his eye and arm candy when Joel needed an escort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arm Candy (Not So Sweet)

**Author's Note:**

> I have a "Sad Hipster Kids" playlist that I listen to when I write angsty stuff. "Degausser" by Brand New and "Don't Mess With Me" by Temposhark feature heavily. Do what you want with that.

 It wasn't like this was the first time Joel had told Ray to shut up and look pretty. As Joel talked to one of his producer friends and gestured wildly with the drink in his right hand, Ray held onto his left arm and looked around at all the other well-dressed people in the room. Before Joel, he'd always thought that penthouse apartments were a rich-person legend, some kind of unattainable thing to make everyone else feel inadequate. Considering how much time he was spending in penthouses these days, Ray decided that he might have to rethink his prior stance.

He kept telling himself that Joel wouldn't bring him unless there was something serious between them, but their relationship seemed to be parties like this one and the occasional fumbling hookup in the back of a limo afterwards. He knew that somewhere deep down, Joel loved him. He had to keep telling himself that or he wouldn't be able to stand another of these dull fucking business parties.

The first problem was that Ray didn't drink, and somehow all there ever was in these places was booze, booze, and more booze. Cocktails, hard liquor, shooters, you name it, but never anything tamer. So he had to make polite conversations without the excuse of sipping a drink when the uncomfortable questions came up. They always came up, especially once people realized who he'd come with. "Joel? You mean THE Joel Heyman? You must be something special! What have you been in? Where did you study?" He never knew how to tell them that he had just been a producer's assistant, and that Joel had spotted him running coffees on set and invited him back to his trailer at the end of the day for a quick fuck and a dinner invitation, in that order. Somehow it didn't seem classy enough for this crowd, so he always found a way to excuse himself from the conversation and get back to Joel's side.

The second problem is that Joel only seemed to want Ray at his side when they first showed up to parties. It was like he had to be seen with a date, and then Ray needed to make himself scarce while Joel mingled and chatted up other A-list actors and producers. It really bothered him, especially once he'd met some of the other dates. Joel's producer friend, Burnie, had a British man that he seemed to use like Joel used Ray. Ray had tried to talk to him at a few other parties, but all that he actually learned was that the man's name was Gavin and that he was a camera operator with a specialty for slow motion capture. When he tried to have a real conversation, all he got back was the same topical babble that he got from anybody else that he tried to talk to. He'd heard a few rumors that Gavin was also Burnie's kept boy, but he'd never gotten a straight answer from anyone about that.

The third and biggest problem was that Ray always felt like the parties were in a bubble and he was pounding on the side, begging to be let in and being ignored. He wasn't an actor, he wasn't a producer, he wasn't even in post. He was just a runner for a bossy producer who liked specialty coffee and people that came at his beck and call. He wasn't even close to being on the same level as the people that surrounded him, and it wasn't like he was moving up. He knew that if it wasn't for Joel, he wouldn't even see these people outside of glossy magazine pages and taped interviews on the tacky celebrity gossip channels. Even when he was on Joel's arm, he felt like he was outside of the conversations and the party at large. Sometimes it reminded him of when he lived in New York and could walk down a crowded sidewalk and still be alone with his thoughts.

Tonight, he'd had enough of his role as a decorative toy. At a lull in the current conversation, Ray found an excuse to pull Joel away and towards a quiet corner of the party. "Listen," he started. "I need to talk to you about us."  
Joel raised an eyebrow. "Us?" he asked, a little sharply. "You say that like we're dating or something."

Ray felt like he'd been slapped. "Am I on the wrong page or something? I thought we were. I mean, I think the sheer number of dates you've taken me on sort of qualifies us as dating."

"You think these are dates? How new are you? These are networking opportunities, and I can't show up alone or I'll look like a scrub."  
"Yeah, but you keep asking me. You could have gotten someone else but this is what, like my tenth party with you?"

"What do you think this is? You're cute and you know how to stand there and look pretty without fucking it up. That's all you do. How the fuck did you get the idea that these are dates?"

"But... What about all those times we had sex? Did that mean nothing to you?" Ray could hear the whine in his voice and it only made him feel worse.  
"It's just sex. Like I said, you're cute. You were convenient. Sometimes fucking is just fucking." Joel's eyes were suddenly cold. It was scary how quickly they'd changed.

"I thought you loved me! Why else would you keep me around?" Ray's throat was tight. He knew that no matter what Joel said next, it was going to feel like a punch straight to the gut.  
"Are you really that naive?" Joel spat, looking at Ray in a way that made his insides curl up like a dying animal. "Do you honestly think love has ever had anything to do with this arrangement? If you want to stick around, drop this. Otherwise, you're incredibly replaceable. Do you know how many hot Hispanic guys there are in Hollywood who would kill to be in your spot?"

"Fuck you. I guess you should go find one of them then." Ray stormed off, leaving Joel standing alone with a sudden angry fire in his dark eyes.

Ray made his way to the front door and slammed it hard on his way out. He wasn't going to stick around and pretend that he belonged at a party like that by himself. He made his way to the elevator and hit the ground floor button before sinking to the ground and hugging his legs to his chest, shaking. For God's sake, he'd been warned about men like Joel before he'd even gotten into the industry. Guys that would use you until you weren't fun anymore and then toss you away. He was too fresh, too young and too new to deal with those guys, but he'd really wanted to believe that Joel was different. He'd wanted so badly to believe that he'd had something with Joel.

As the doors opened to reveal the lobby, Ray pulled himself up off the floor and promised that he'd never go to a Hollywood party ever again. Especially not with Joel Heyman.

**Author's Note:**

> If there's interest, I could be convinced to write another fic in this AU confirming/denying Burnie and Gavin's setup.


End file.
